The Ol' Switcharoo
by RaspberryGenderJello
Summary: Alex is in town and has decided to enlist Alfred to help him with his goal of screwing around with the other countries. Will things completely go down in flames or will both versions of America get a good laugh out of the others' misery? 2P America. AU. Rated M for language and possible violence and sexual content.


[AN: While this isn't exactly my first Hetalia fanfic I've ever written, this is one of the first ones I am even attempting to publish on here. I do not own Hetalia, all rights are reserved to Hidekaz Himaruya. Enjoy; feedback is appreciated.]

"And what the fuck could you possibly want out of me?" Alfred asked suspiciously as he looked down at the brunette in the head chair of his dining room table. The real world American was used to having strange visitors, but the person in his chair took the cake completely. The visitor's feet rested comfortably on the mahogany table, one arm bent back behind his head while the other rested on his lap. His black gloved hand gripped his nail-coated baseball bat along with a few splotches of blood on the splintering wood at the tip. His sunglasses lay low on his nose, his mischievous red eyes gazing lazily up at Alfred.

There truly was no other like Alexander Jones, his very own doppelganger.

Alfred's toned arms crossed along his chest, his eyes narrowing down at Alex. "Well?"

"Jesus Porky, can't a guy take some time outta his busy day ta come down 'n see his favorite countapart?" Alex's accent bellowed out as he spoke, a smirk spreading across his face. Alfred knew that smirk too well, unfortunately. He could smelt trouble not too long after looking at it.

"Not if it's you." Alfred wasn't budging to the other's talk. "What do you want?"

Sighing, the second player American removed his legs from the table to stand up out of the chair properly. He was no taller or shorter than the first player American, but was a tad leaner than the latter. Most likely from the lack of animal product in his diet. His boots, bloody and tarnished, squeaked like an injured squirrel on the hard wood floor. "Whaddo I normally want when I show up 'ere?"

"To fuck my brother."

" 'Sides that."

"To fuck around with the other first players?"

"Bingo, piggy!" The brunette exclaimed, red eyes gleaming in a twisted sense of glee, the kind of glee that lit up his eyes right before a street fight or setting an enemy's junk on fire. And whenever Alfred got a glimpse of it, it never ends up well for him, or for anybody else for that matter. The last time Alex showed up in the real world it ended with him having to be pride away from a certain Englishman's doppelganger who had been hellbent on feeding him "quality meat." Never again will that happen, Alfred had vowed all those months ago. And he won't let it happen this time either.

"Whatever you're thinking-"The first player American replied. "-stop thinking it. Now."

"C'mon Porkchop!" Alex whined like a five year old in return, his voice becoming more nasally by the syllable. "Who shoved a pole up _your_ ass this mornin', huh?"

The blond one rolled his eyes at the comment a little bit, his crossed arms tightening across his chest. "I have no pole up my ass, thank you. I'm just not in the mood for getting nearly killed by the consequences of YOUR actions. "

"Ya didn't even hear what I wanna do!"

"I don't have to to know how it's gonna end!"

At this point, both versions of America were staring eachother down from either side of the dining room table, blues and reds slanted and boring into one another. Alex's scowl grew a bit on his face, but Alfred remained stone-faced. Sometimes he thought Alex's antics were amusing, but when he leaves and goes back to his world, its him who has to pay. And there are people in the real world that he did not want to get mixed up with again. Braginsky, Beilschmidt, Oxenstierna, all of those types he would rather not anger. And it wasn't him being any sort of weakling either.

Alex, on the other hand, had grown so fond of making Alfred's life a living hell that every time he comes he always finds a way to make it so. The last time he brought Oliver along for the ride with him, and the time before that he cross shredded all of the Russian's documents regarding his nuclear power plant construction and sat back and watched as the two of them nearly asphyxiated one another. But sometimes, he grows bored of torturing Alfred and would much rather go for the others, as they are easy targets to him. Unlike his first player counterpart, the other countries are not practically the same person as him, making it much easier to plan something without it being intercepted or tracked by such a similar being. And that is what he was going to try and explain.

"Hea' me out, big guy." The brunette said softly after such a long pause, putting his bat down on the table and raising his arms up in a harmless gesture. "I'm thinkin'…a goin' to the World Meetin' as you and-"

"_Hell _no!" The blond haired American cut the other off before he could finish. "I don't even trust you to walk down the fuckin' street without setting something on fire! And you think I'd actually let you go to MY meetings and interfere with MY busine-"

"Jus' shut up and listen ta me for a sec, yeah?" Alex snarled which made Alfred close his mouth and remained silent. The second player American hated being cut off. It made him livid. "I see how you are at the meetings. They underestimate ya, throw yer ideas aside as some childrens' joke, don't they? They laugh at ya behind ya back, and ta top it all off when ya need some help with shit, they turn their backs on ya."

Alfred's brow furrowed with each sentence Alex said, and he wasn't denying any of it. It was true, they always laughed at his ideas and shrugged them off as stupid and senseless. And while he never showed it in public, it infuriated him. He never laughed at anyone else's ideas or pushed them aside when they needed help! He was there for everybody and then he got jack shit.

The silence made Alex smirk. His legs began moving his body towards the blond one on the other side of the table. "I guess that means I'm right huh. Listen blondie, I'm on yer side this time, promise. I may like watchin' ya get choked out by an angry Russkie, but seeing the rest of 'em loose their shit's the best thing an asshole like me could ask for. So hea's what I'm thinkin': I go in to the meetin' as yer fine self, and make them as clueless and dumbfounded as can be. My personality'll shine like the Sun and slowly they'll start to go mad wonderin' what the fuck happened to you. Don't that sound like a bit of sweet revenge, my fat compadre?"

It took Alfred a few moments to really think about it to answer. On one hand, this could spell out disastrous results as it normally does, but on the other hand it would be nice for Alex to focus his antics on the others for a change. It took him a few moments to weigh the options in his head, moving back and forth between them. Does he…does he not…does he…does he not…

Finally after what seemed like an eternity of a wait, Alfred looked over at the second player and sighed a bit. "If things go to shit because of you, I'm coming to your world for your head."

"Fuckin' Sweet Baby Ray's, I knew you'd say yes you predictable little fuck." Alex cackled and reached over to pat his doppelganger on the back. He definitely wasn't as strong as Alfred, but he still had his American strength somewhere in those evil bones. He knew Alfred like the back of his hand practically; he knew that if he tried hard enough, he could get the little fucker to say yes to anything.

"Yeah yeah, I know I know, no need to fucking hang on me." Shoving the second player off of his back, he moved towards the archway that led into the main foyer and the staircase. He looked over his shoulder at Alex, making an indication with his head that meant that he wanted the brunette to follow, and began to walk his way up the flight of stairs. "If you're gonna pull this off, you're gonna need one of my suits."

Said brunette rolled his eyes once more but complied, dragging his boots across the wood and scuffing it until he reached the stairs. "I fuckin' hate suits."

"Well that's too bad, I'm not gonna have me looking like a schmuck in front of the other countries." Alfred replied from the top of the stairs. "C'mon."

And he did. Eventually. After scuffing each wooden stair and smearing a bit of blood on them from his boot.

[AN: Thus concludes the introductory paragraph. What did you guys think? This is a working progress, and I am open to suggestions if any of you have any ideas! Feel free to comment them in the review or private message me! Thanks again guys. –Joshua]


End file.
